


One Night or a Lifetime?

by ladyroxanne21



Series: One Night or a Lifetime? [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Harry partially owns a muggle club, Humor, M/M, Mpreg, No memory of the night before, Nosy Family Tapestries, One Night Stands, Post-War, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 06:37:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7423918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry wakes up, he thinks he's dying. Turns out, he's had a one off and he's severely hungover. It's not until much later that he finds out that night will affect him for the rest of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night or a Lifetime?

Harry woke up with a groan and clutched his head. “I am _never_ drinking again!” This rash and likely insincere vow had the effect of intensifying his brain splitting headache. It now felt like there were major fireworks going off in his brain, and only his skull was keeping the pulverized goo from falling out!

Harry fumbled desperately for his wand, which he usually kept on the small set of wooden drawers – a sort of mini dresser – next to his bed. Only his wand wasn't there. Nor was it under his pillow, which was the only other place he would have stashed it.

It was times like these that he was extremely grateful that he and Hermione were just muggle enough to own a marvelous device to make this much simpler on him. Locating his cellphone under his pillow, he unlocked the screen and promptly sent a text to his best friend:  _Dying, need help!_

It worked. Hermione Apparated into his bedroom less than a full minute later. She was only half dressed as she'd apparently been pulling on a sleek dress shirt over her underwear when she'd gotten his text.

“What's wrong?” She demanded in concern. Harry was sure that the sight of him laying naked on his bed clutching his head must have been convincing, because she already had her wand out to diagnose him as she carefully checked for wounds or bleeding. “What happened... Of for the love of Merlin! Harry! You're not _dying,_ you're hungover!”

Harry groaned again, trying to shove his palms into his ears. “Shh...”

Hermione muttered murderously. “You're just lucky I bothered to learn basic first aid or I would have had to drag your sorry naked arse to St. Mungo's, and just imagine how embarrassing that would have been for you. Here!”

She cast a spell that cleared up his headache so fast that he really thought she'd removed his brains as well. It was disorienting and dizzying and not at all pleasant. Only the fact that he could breathe without wanting to claw his skull off or cast an Avada Kedavra on himself made him decide to grudgingly thank her.

She harrumphed. “So... I take it that you got disgustingly drunk and then pulled last night.”

“Wait,” Harry stated in confusion. “I pulled?”

Hermione looked at his crotch significantly for one second before rolling her eyes and looking away. Harry sat up and noticed that he had the remains of oil, spunk, and sweat coating his shaft, what he could see of his arse, his legs, and the bed. In fact, the sheets had so many white stains that he really wished that he could remember exactly what happened. In great detail. Possibly with recorded visual aid for reliving it later on.

“I... I honestly don't remember a thing...” Harry murmured. A careful look around his room proved that he had also apparently been too drunk as it happened to remember to set up his camera. So much for any hope of remembering what happened!

The only thing he could remember was going out to a new bar dedicated to people who were lesbians, bisexuals, gay, or heteroflexible at the very least. It was a fun place where Harry could learn to dance, flirt with literally everyone, and not worry about anyone knowing his name. To be honest, he might have invested a teeny bit of his money into making sure the bar existed, but just because he was more or less the silent owner of the place, didn't mean that he took advantage of the muggle man who ran it for him.

That man was a God in Harry's opinion! Richard could do figurative magic with PR and adverts – not to mention event planning and sheer knowledge of how to run a business – that in just the two little months that it had been open, Harry was earning a decent income from his share of the profits. Unfortunately, Harry was also more or less married to his actual job, and so only went to the club on weekends.

“Harry...” Hermione gained his attention with a concerned frown. “Why were you out getting drunk on a Sunday night? You're supposed to be at work in...” She consulted her phone. “Less than 10 minutes.”

“WHAT?!” Harry roared, and then winced, because Hermione's spell seemed to be temporary, as evidenced by the slow return of his headache.

Hermione scrunched up her face, concentrated really hard, and then cast a summoning spell. A moment later, a glass container of leftover stirfry floated into the room. She grabbed it and thrust it into his hands.

“I don't care if it is cold – cast a warming charm if you want – but eat that before you do anything else, or you'll be sorry later on!” She then seized the empty glass next to his bed and cast an Aguamenti to fill it.

Harry still couldn't find his wand, so he had to eat the food cold, but since it was still delicious (if a bit congealed since it was fried in butter), he didn't complain. He drank the water in big gulps to help swallow his food before it was sufficiently chewed. Then he grinned up at his best friend.

“Have I ever told you that you are the most awesome person on the planet?”

Hermione twisted her lips into a half amused, half displeased smirk. “Yes, and even though it's true, you need to keep telling me that. Maybe you'll eventually follow my lead and be the second most awesome person on the planet.” By which she meant responsible. She almost always meant responsible.

“I think I'm a lost cause,” Harry informed her with a grin. “Have you seen my wand?”

An expression of barely suppressed disgust crossed her face. She pointed. “Unless you have toys I would really rather not think about just lying on the floor, I'm fairly sure that's your wand poking out from a pair of boxers that I don't recall seeing before... That are next to your favorite pair, and so must belong to your mystery guest last night.”

Harry leaned over the side of his bed, and sure enough, his wand was poking through the opening in the front of a pair of posh black silk boxers. “Nice! Must have been a poncy bloke!”

He climbed out of bed and picked up the boxers. After a short inspection proved them to be clean – which was surprising all considering – he pulled them on, and then tossed his wand on the bed while he accepted the clothes that Hermione handed him. After shimmying into the tight jeans and sexy black muscle tee, Harry slipped into his Auror robes.

“Gotta run!” Harry cried out urgently as he kissed her cheek. “Oh! And by the way, I stopped by your place last night to raid your potions cabinet, and you're now out of stomach settler.”

Just as Harry disappeared, Hermione gasped and cried out: “Harry! Wait!” But he was already gone. Heaving a great sigh, Hermione returned home.

“Did Harry really die?” Ron wondered as he finished getting dressed. He'd been in the shower when the text came in.

“Not yet, but he might actually do so later on. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.” And with that cryptic statement, Hermione pulled on her skirt, zipped it up, and left for work.

 

***

 

At work, the headache most definitely returned. So much so that Harry's mood turned positively foul. He was literally snarling at the files he was working on, and thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't been sent out of his office. Or maybe his boss had noticed that he was a prickly bastard and wisely chose not to inflict him on anyone.

Regardless, when a light knock on his door sounded like a booming crescendo from the largest kettle drums on the planet, Harry couldn't help but roar. “Unless someone has just been kidnapped by death eaters and needs me to rescue them from horrifically gruesome torture –  _GO AWAY_ !”

The door opened slowly to reveal Draco Malfoy looking both amused and offended with a tiny bit of intrigued thrown in for good measure. “Potter, I think –”

“ _Malfoy_?!” Harry growled, not in the mood to talk to his best friend at the moment (especially since she'd not really cured his hangover after all), let alone the person he'd grown up hating his whole life. “Why in the seven levels of muggle hell do you think I want to see or talk to you?!?!”

“Er...” Draco looked well and truly taken aback.

A newly hired young Auror deftly stepped around Draco and promptly turned his googly eyes on Harry. “Auror Potter, the Head Auror wants to see you in his office in five minutes for...” he trailed off when he saw the expression on Harry's face.

“Tell him that unless Voldemort has resurrected himself and needs me to go kick his arse back to the grave, I don't care! In fact, I'm going home for the rest of the day!”

“Yes sir!” The new Auror cried out obediently, saluting as a leftover gesture from his time serving in the muggle military. He then ran off, trying to decide how to actually say that to his boss without sounding impertinent.

“As for you,” Harry growled, standing now to glare at Draco. “If you're here to see me about something official, come back tomorrow when I don't feel like I have a herd of Thestrals playing Quidditch in my head! Otherwise, kindly never darken my doorway again.”

“I see,” Draco said through clenched teeth. “In that case,” he almost certainly was going to say something acerbic, but changed his mind. He simply spun around and left.

True to Harry's word, he went home and back to bed before anyone could try to stop him.

 

***

 

Harry woke up with a groan and clutched his stomach. He felt like he had a Fiendfyre tearing through him. This was worse by far than all the mornings of the last three weeks! Four if you counted the week when he was only mildly nauseous and food just barely churned his stomach. But for the last three weeks, he'd been throwing up each morning and just about any time he looked at food.

He had no idea why, but he was too stubborn to go see a healer about it, figuring that it would eventually go away. Except that he was clearly wrong. It had – in fact – steadily gotten worse.

He grabbed his phone and nearly cast an Incendio on it when it refused to unlock. But just when he was grabbing for his wand, the phone – perhaps sensing that its life was in danger – responded to his touch. He rapidly tapped out a text to Hermione:  _Help me, I'm dying_ !

And then he tapped out another one:  _For real this time_ !

Hermione appeared about 15 seconds later wearing only a tiny pair of panties and a tight cami that highlighted her breasts in a way that actually might have interested Harry if he was not currently suffering from an agonizingly slow death. He groaned, clutching her hand.

“I think someone must have cursed me!” Harry informed her. “There's almost certainly Fiendfyre in my stomach and intestines!”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. “If you're hungover again, I'm going to kill you myself!”

“Please 'Mione, take me to St. Mungo's,” Harry begged, tugging on her hand so that she would see how serious he was.

Hermione was shocked! Harry  _never_ wanted to see a Healer unless it was an emergency. She quickly cast a few diagnostic spells.

“You're not hungover...”

“No! I'm dying!” Harry insisted petulantly. A second later, he flung his head over the side of the bed and vomited.

“Oh...” Hermione murmured softly. “Er, I think I might know what's going on.” She cast one more diagnostic spell. “Gravida Probatur.” This resulted in Harry glowing yellow. “Mmmhmm... Just give me two minutes to throw some clothes on, and then I'll floo you to St. Mungo's.”

“Hurry!” Harry cried out, panting from the urge to be sick again.

Hermione Disapparated, was gone for almost exactly two minutes, and then returned wearing a pair of worn jeans and a white button up shirt. She didn't say a word as she magicked a similar outfit onto Harry. After that, she used just a touch of magic to help support him as he leaned on her.

At St. Mungo's, Hermione asked for directions to a particular ward, and then sat Harry in the waiting room of that ward while she talked to the Mediwitch behind the reception counter. The Mediwitch cast an incredulous glance at Harry, but must have seen how miserable he was because she nodded and promised to have a Healer see them as soon as possible.

When the Healer entered the exam room Harry been shown too – less than 10 minutes later – one look at Harry's face was enough to make her skip all pleasantries. She waved her wand and cast: “Gravida Probatur.”

Harry now wished he knew what that spell was, since all it seemed to do was make him glow a golden yellow.

“Ah,” she murmured, marking something in a file. “Well that confirms it. Congratulations Mr. Potter. I'm assuming that you'd like antinausea potions?”

“Yes please!” Harry cried out. “Right now if possible! And something to get rid of the Fiendfyre curse in my stomach!”

“Oh?” The Healer raised one of her delicate brows. “You're also experiencing heartburn?” Without waiting for an answer, she summoned a few vials of potion.

Harry gulped them down before even asking what they were or what they did. He practically held his breath until they took effect. And then he sighed in relief.

“Lay back please,” Healer Rowe directed softly. When Harry complied, she pushed the bottom of his shirt up. A strangely soft smile stretched her lips as she placed her hand on a rounded area just above his groin. 

_Is she groping me? When did I start getting fat? I run, exercise, and spar every day!_

Before Harry could protest the iffy possible groping, the Healer cast another spell at the slight bulge. This resulted in a weird blur forming a hologram above his abdomen. The hologram was in various shades an artist might use for flesh.

At first, there was just a ball that the Healer measured thoroughly. Then the hologram zoomed in to show something that looked like an alien. At the same time, a wooshing sound filled the room.

“Oh Harry...” Hermione whispered reverently, silent tears streaming from her eyes.

“What?” Harry wondered, highly confused. “Is that a parasite? How and when could I have contracted a parasite? Is it deadly?”

The Healer gave him a sharp look of surprise. “Are you serious?”

Hermione sighed. “Harry... Do you remember when you were hungover and thought you were dying?”

“Yeah?” Harry murmured, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Just as you were leaving for work, you told me that you had raided my potions cabinet for a stomach settler,” Hermione reminded him.

“Yeah...”

“Well, you left before I could tell you that the only potions I had in my cabinet at the time were various fertility potions because we're trying for a baby,” Hermione informed him.

“So... I took a fertility potion?” Harry reasoned based on the information.

“And then went to a club and brought home a stranger who you cannot remember anything about, except for all evidence points to having had sex with him,” Hermione stated, staring at him significantly.

“Er...” Harry droned, feeling like he was missing something important. “Help me out here, I'm not exactly sure what you're saying.”

“I'm saying,” Hermione said slowly. “That you are pregnant.”

“What?!” Harry yelped in surprise and disbelief. “That's not possible!”

The Healer smirked at him. “When a wizard takes a fertility potion, it creates an artificial womb that is sustained by his magic – and special potions – for the duration of the pregnancy. It isn't guaranteed that the wizard will conceive, but if his magical core is powerful enough to sustain the pregnancy, the likelihood does increase. And from what I'm seeing here, your core is probably the most powerful I've ever come across.”

Harry now looked at the hologram of the alien floating just above his abdomen. “So that's... a baby?”

“Yes,” the Healer confirmed with a grin. “You're nearly three months along, I'd say. 11 weeks and 4 days, to be precise.”

“That fits with when it happened,” Hermione murmured, her expression looking like she was counting back in her mind. She slipped her hand into Harry's.

“How did this happen to me when you're the one who wants a baby?” Harry wondered, feeling that it just wasn't fair. To Hermione. She should have at least conceived a baby because of the potions too.

“My Healer says that I'm too stressed to be receptive to conception, and that it'll happen when it happens,” Hermione explained with a shrug. Harry squeezed her hand.

Hermione frowned at him. “Harry, you're not...  _unhappy_ about this, are you?”

“Honestly, I'm in shock, I think,” Harry replied truthfully. “I haven't had time to think in terms of happy or unhappy yet.”

Hermione squeezed his hand again. “Because if at any point you decide that you don't want this baby, Ron and I will be happy to adopt it. And then you can be the favorite uncle slash godfather.”

Harry smiled at her. A real, genuinely happy smile. “While I am glad to hear you say that, you know me. I always wanted a family and kids, I just didn't think I'd ever have them. I most  _certainly_ didn't think that  _I'd_ get pregnant!”

Hermione kissed his cheek. “And still no idea who your mystery guest is/was?”

“None whatsoever,” Harry admitted with a sigh of disappointment. “But it's probably for the best since a stranger pulled from a bar is not likely to want to take responsibility for the accidental product of a one off.”

The Healer had finished her exam by this time and handed Harry a magically produced photograph of the baby. She was frowning in concern. The tight press of her lips announced that she wanted to say something, but was hesitating.

Harry inspected the magical photograph, and like all magical photos, it was a 10 second loop showing the baby squirming ever so slightly like a worm. In fact, if they had not told him that it was a baby, he would have thought for sure that it  _was_ a worm with arm and leg like appendages.

Healer Rowe finally spoke up. “I'm sorry. I know this is unforgivably rude of me, but  _why_ is the Savior of the Wizarding World pulling blokes for one offs? Surely there must be someone worthy of dating you?”

Harry gave her a sad look. “You see, it's precisely that. I'm the Savior and everyone wants to date...  _the Savior._ No one actually wants to date me.”

“Are you saying that no one is willing to look closer and get to know who you really are?” Healer Rowe asked with a frown.

“Not so far,” Harry stated with a shrug. “That's why I go to muggle bars. I actually have better luck with muggles, but then I seem to run into a wall when they ask things like: 'What do you do for a living?' and 'Why won't you bring me to meet your family?' I can't exactly break the law and tell them about our world unless I'm planning to marry them, and because I'm obviously keeping secrets from them, I can't get to the stage where marriage is even an option.”

Healer Rowe sighed. “Yes... I can see how that would be frustrating. Well, thankfully you have such a wonderful friend to support you!”

Harry squeezed Hermione's hand again. “I know! I tell her so all the time!”

Hermione actually blushed, but didn't say anything.

“Now,” the Healer resumed her consult. “You're going to have to take a lot of potions over the next few months. Let's start going over everything you'll need to know.” She handed him an alarmingly thick binder that bore the title – Wizard Pregnancy: a step by step guide.

With a feeling that he'd have to surrender to the inevitable at some point, Harry sighed and opened the binder.

 

***

 

At the sixth month mark, Harry was seriously frustrated! He paced his office tearing at his hair. On the one hand, his Auror robes were roomy enough to hide the large and unmistakable bulge in his stomach. On the other hand, he  _really_ didn't want to be known as: The Boy Who Lived to Defeat the Dark Lord and Save the World Only to Get Up the Duff From a One Off With a Stranger!

He was more than happy to avoid the whole situation and claim his child as adopted, but... Well, he literally couldn't. At least not today because his boss had assigned him the type of case Harry would normally kill for. The type of case that Harry hadn't had since just before he found out he was pregnant. A highly dangerous case that ran a hefty risk of getting him killed or injured.

With a growl and then a sigh, Harry grabbed the case file and marched to the office of the Head Auror. He watched Harry burst into the office with narrowed eyes. Especially when Harry tossed the file on his desk.

“I can't accept this case!” Harry informed him with a tight voice through a clenched jaw.

“Auror Potter...” Dawlish murmured warningly. “I cannot play favorites with you by letting you pick and choose what cases you'll work on.”

Harry growled, sighed, and then flicked his wand so that the door to the office slammed shut. “I have a good reason to refuse this case. It's dangerous and –”

“The dangerous ones are the ones you love the most!” His boss exclaimed in surprise. “You're my best –” 

Harry cut him off without saying a word by opening his robe. Underneath, he was wearing his most worn out pair of jeans that Hermione had added a stretchy piece in the zipper area. He also wore a comfortable muscle shirt that curled up to expose his stomach. There was no explanation other than the obvious, unless Harry had somehow developed an impressive beer belly in the last few months.

Neither said a word for a very long and uncomfortable moment. Then Dawlish looked up into Harry's eyes. He had to clear his throat a couple of times.

“Oh,” was all he managed to say.

Harry looked to the ceiling in a confusing combination of parental pride and humiliation. “According to Ministry policy, a pregnant Auror may not participate in any mission deemed dangerous.”

“How far along?”

Harry closed his robe and took a seat. Then he smiled at his boss. “31 weeks.”

“And how much longer does your Healer expect it'll be?”

“Well, normally, nine more weeks would be the answer, but my Healer has warned me that it could happen at any time. Ideally, not too soon, but the baby would survive with magical assistance at this point.”

“I see,” his boss said with a sigh. “Fine, I'll take you off this case, and I won't say why just yet, but you're going to have to file the proper paperwork so that you can take a parental leave when the baby is born. Somehow, I expect that it'll be difficult to keep quiet after that.”

Harry sighed in both reluctance and acceptance. “I understand.”

 

***

 

Harry was at the Burrow for the weekly dinner. It was a very long standing tradition that everyone drop whatever they were doing and Apparate or Floo over to the Burrow every Sunday. Harry hadn't missed one – aside from when on missions – since the Final Battle.

“Not too much longer now!” Molly announced with an extremely proud grin.

Harry met her eyes with a smile that was both happy and aggravated. “At 36 weeks, I'm supposed to still have a lot of growing to do. I mean the baby has a lot of growing to do. But I already feel huge! If I get any bigger, I won't be able to walk through doors or get up off the couch. I may as well –”

Harry dropped his fork with a gasp. All the color drained from his face.

“Harry?” About half the people sitting around the table asked in concern.

Harry's hands flew to his huge abdomen. “Ow...”

“Did the baby kick?” Hermione asked with a frown.

Harry was panting slightly. “Not... Not unless the baby can kick in a way that wrenches my entire gut.”

Ron grabbed Hermione's arm, clearly worried. “Does that mean something's gone wrong?”

“Ow...” Harry groaned between small gasps.

Hermione bit her lip in thought. “Actually, I think it means that he's in labor.”

Molly was watching Harry with an eagle sharp eye. “Looks like labor to me.”

“St. Mungo's?” Ron asked, feeling like someone should be panicking, and if no one else was going to, it may as well be him.

“St. Mungo's,” Hermione confirmed confidently. 

They each slung one of Harry's arms over their shoulders and helped him get up. Harry was panting harder than ever and had a glazed look in his eyes. It occurred to Ron to wonder what would happen to Harry if they didn't make it to the Healer in time.

“I'm, sorry, Molly,” Harry apologized, feeling guilty for leaving before finishing dinner.

“Oh Harry love!” Molly reassured and chided him at the same time. “Don't you worry about me none! Just go have that babe! And Ron, you let me know if it's a boy or a girl right away so that make hats and booties!”

“Will do mum!” Ron assured her, and then muttered in Harry's ear. “Why didn't you just find out the gender months ago so that my mum could have knitted an entire wardrobe by now?”

“Not important,” Harry grunted between heavy panting. “Love anyway.”

 

Two hours later, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were sitting in the large library of Malfoy Manor when a bright golden light flashed, nearly blinding them. They went to investigate it curiously, wondering if one of the indirect branches of the family tree had just bore fruit. Lucius stood on one side of the enormous tapestry magically tracking the Malfoy family, while Narcissa stood at the other. They looked it over carefully, not finding anything new for a long time.

“Something wrong?” Draco asked as he came up behind them. “I ordered us some tea,” he added as he looked from one parent to the other. 

Before they even said anything, his eyes were drawn to the tapestry. The main branch was probably going to die out with him, but the side branches still had heirs from time to time. He tried to find the name of the one cousin he'd bet to have a child next.

Narcissa gasped and pointed at the tapestry. “Lucius!”

Her husband went to stand next to her, looked where she pointed, and then they both turned to stare at their son. Draco was still looking up, but the hairs on his arms and neck prickled. Finding the name and not seeing a child, he turned to look at his parents, only to find them staring at him in wide eyed shock.

“What?” He asked, unnerved.

Narcissa was still pointing, so he looked just beyond her hand.

“Unknown name?” Draco asked in confusion. And then it hit him. The unknown name was directly connected to him. “What?” He looked to his parents.

They stared at him just as he stared at them, for several long moments.

“So... you're not going to tell us?” Lucius finally asked.

Draco blinked in confusion. “Tell you what?”

“Who the mother of your child is?” Lucius stated as if it should be obvious. “And why you've kept this a secret for so long.”

“What?!” Draco asked in shock. His eyes flew to the tapestry again. “You mean that it's not a mistake?”

“It's impossible for the tapestry to make mistakes,” Narcissa informed him gently. “When a child carrying our blood is born, our family magic automatically updates the tapestry.”

“But!” Draco protested, feeling about 13 years old. “But that's impossible!”

Lucius frowned. “In days of old – which you will see if you look high enough up the tree – the head of the family often had children with mistresses and lovers, and the tapestry was just one of the ways to verify if the child was his or not. Later on, it proved a nuisance to certain members who wanted to hide their infidelities, but I assure you, the tapestry does not lie.”

Draco blushed redder than he could recall blushing ever before. “But I didn't... It's not possible for me to have a child because I have not been with any women since I attended Hogwarts.” He took a breath to try to calm down. “So unless some woman polyjuiced herself into a man to try to trick me, this just is not possible.”

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged concerned looks. “If a woman were desperate enough for money... This could be a scheme to lay claim to part of the Malfoy fortune.”

Narcissa looked to her son. “So... You honestly have no idea how you have a child?”

“None at all,” Draco stated with a slow shake of his head.

“I suppose we'll just have to wait until the baby has been named, and then go visit the mother to see if she can tell us how this has happened,” Narcissa suggested with a disappointed sigh.

After that, life went back to normal, except that Draco would stare at the tapestry for hours each day. Usually at night when he got home from the business he had started not too long ago. Days went by, then weeks. When nearly a month had passed and the tapestry still said  _unknown name,_ Draco was ready to tear his hair out.

“Just name the baby already,” he roared in frustration. “Is that so hard? For Merlin's sake!”

Lucius snorted softly and pretended that he hadn't heard anything. Narcissa walked over and patted her son on the back soothingly. Draco was glaring at the tapestry as if he planned to set it on fire if it didn't update soon.

“It hopefully won't be too much longer,” Narcissa murmured. “I can't imagine not naming a baby for more than a month.”

“And you are absolutely certain that there is no way that the tapestry has been tricked?” Draco demanded yet again. “If this is some plot to ask for money, why hasn't the woman shown up here yet?!”

“I don't know, darling, but...” Narcissa trailed off as the name began to glow and change.

Lucius rushed to stand behind them. All three held their breath in anticipation. Draco actually wrung his hands.

“James,” Lucius read as it appeared.

“Sirius,” Narcissa continued, happy that a constellation had been chosen.

“ _Potter_?!” Draco choked out incredulously. He looked like a fish out of water for a few moments before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fainted.

“Oh dear,” Narcissa murmured in sympathy.

 

***

 

“I'm sorry, but Auror Potter is on an extended leave of absence.”

“But I _need_ to speak with him,” Draco insisted.

“I'm sorry,” the elderly female Auror repeated. “But he's not here, and I cannot give you his contact information.”

Draco growled in frustration, kicked the corner of her desk, and then stalked away. He stomped around the Ministry in an epic huff for almost an hour before he realized something important. Feeling only slightly hopeful, he asked directions to an office.

Ten minutes later, he barged in and threw a photograph onto the desk. “Care to explain this?!”

Hermione looked up at Draco in confusion for a moment before taking a look at the photo. It was a snapshot of his family tapestry. Hermione goggled and gaped in a way that was fairly satisfying to see. It almost mollified Draco.

“You?!?!” She gasped out in astonishment. “But, but, how?!”

“That's what I'd like to know!” Draco roared.

Hermione stared at him in silence for a moment, and then pulled a device out of her pocket. She had spent a long time warding it just right so that it would work inside the ministry, but was now beyond grateful that she'd gone through the trouble.

“Harry,” she spoke into her phone hesitantly. “I think I have a strong lead as to who your mystery guest was a while back.”

Harry roared so loudly that she had to hold the phone away from her ear. She then tapped the icon of a speaker and set the phone on her desk.

“What do you mean you have a lead?! How can you possibly have a lead on a person I don't remember at all?! It's a total blank, so even if someone claimed to be him, how would I know?! This makes no sense!”

“Harry, please clam down,” Hermione nearly begged.

“How can I be calm?! I was up all night walking James around in circles trying to get him to sleep. Do you know what I finally had to do? I had to bundle him up and take him for a ride on my motorcycle!”

“That's not safe!” Hermione roared as she leapt to her feet.

“Yes it was! I had him in his carrier on my chest protected by at least 12 different charms! And it frickin' worked, so don't you dare lecture me!”

“Please tell me you didn't go flying!” Hermione insisted.

“Fine, I won't tell you! Now if you don't mind, he's finally asleep again and I even if it's only for five minutes, I'd like to take a nap before I go crazy and Avada Kedavra myself! Just remember, if anything happens to me, you raise him with love, got it!” Harry then hung up.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples. She could feel a nasty headache coming on. Draco frowned at her.

“He wouldn't really cast an unforgivable on himself, would he?” Draco wondered.

“No... Harry's just having a hard time. The birth was... er... difficult, and Harry had to spend nearly three weeks in the hospital before the Healers were sure that they'd both live. He's only been home a little more than a week now and the baby cries non stop. Not even the healers can figure out why. It's been rough,” Hermione explained.

She tapped on her phone again. “Ron? Could you please ask to leave work early and go help Harry? He's about to lose his sanity.”

“Sorry love,” Ron said, but since he was not on speaker, Draco couldn't hear him. “But my boss said that if I try to take off any more, I'm going to be reprimanded.”

Hermione sighed again. “I see, thanks anyway.” She then chewed on her thumbnail for a moment as she muttered. “Well, am I the boss or am I the boss?”

After gathering up her courage, she strode out of her office. “Belinda, divide all my appointments up between everyone, handle all my calls, and see to it that no one less important than the Minister of Magic himself tries to contact me!”

She then Accio'd the photograph of Draco's family tapestry. “Come on, Malfoy!”

Draco felt just a little apprehensive as he followed her. With the mood she was in, combined with the mood Harry was in, it might well prove dangerous to confront him right now. Fatal even!

Once at the nearest Disapparition point, Hermione clutched Draco's arm and side-along transported him directly into Harry's house. The very first thing they noticed was that the baby was most definitely crying again. Almost screaming.

“You won't eat, you won't sleep... What am I doing wrong?! Please tell me,” Harry begged, walking back and forth and bouncing his son gently. “I'll do anything! You want money, I can give you money. How about I sing to you? I'm bad at it, but I could try.”

Hermione gestured for Draco to stay put a moment. She walked out of the kitchen where they'd arrived, and into a large but cozy family room. Seeing Harry so desperate nearly made her cry.

“Oh Harry... Here, let me hold him for a bit. I'll take him for a walk while you make tea and talk to –” 

“If you're really going to take him,” Harry interrupted her as he thrust his son into her arms. “Then please let me take a nap! I'd kill my own mother for a nap right about now!”

Hermione giggled. Then she kissed him on the cheek. “I'll make a deal with you. Make tea. Get something to eat. Talk with Malfoy. If you do, I promise I'll take James home tonight so that you can get some real sleep.”

That sounds gr – Wait! Why am I talking to Malfoy?” Harry asked in confusion, thinking that he must have heard her wrong.

Hermione dug in her pocket and withdrew the photo, which she then gave to him. Harry was still confused as he accepted it, and then even more confused as he glanced at it. “This is just names...”

And then it hit him what he was looking at. “Wait! Why is  _my_ son listed under Draco Malfoy's name?! No one even  _knows_ about him!”

Hermione kissed his cheek and patted him consolingly on the back. “As I said, go talk to Malfoy. I'll take James for a walk, and then pack him up for a night at my place.”

“Alright,” Harry grudgingly agreed. Then – as she left the house – he walked to the kitchen, where Draco was already prudently making tea. The two stood staring at each other for several awkward moments.

“So...” Draco began, trying to fill the silence. “From what I gather, you have no memory of what happened the night that we apparently conceived a son.”

Harry flushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “No... My Healer thinks that it was a combination of the fact that I drank so much alcohol – much more than I usually do, by the way – and the potion...”

“What potion?” Draco wondered curiously.

“Here's the thing, I _thought_ I was drinking a potion to settle my stomach – which it did – but what I was actually drinking was Hermione's fertility potion,” Harry confessed.

“Ah...” Draco murmured. “That would explain it.”

“Yeah, it left me with the nastiest headache too!” Harry complained. “I thought I was literally dying when I woke up. Hermione cast a powerful anti-headache charm on me, but it only worked for about a half an hour. I was in so much pain that I nearly got a new Auror fired before I just decided to go home and sleep it off. It took me two headache potions before the pain was tolerable enough to go to sleep though.”

“And that explains that,” Draco stated quietly. 

Harry was frowning as he looked up at the ceiling – as if praying for guidance. “Wait... Didn't you come to see me that day?”

“Yes,” Draco replied, and then sighed heavily. “I wanted to talk about what had happened, but you basically kicked me out of your office and told me to never come back.”

Harry winced. “Sorry, I didn't actually mean that.”

Draco looked like he was biting back some truly cutting insults. When he had control of his tongue, he shrugged. “At the time, I though you vehemently regretted what happened. If I had realized that you were hungover, I would have tried to talk a different day.”

Harry yawned so deeply that he felt his eyes water. Draco handed him a mug of tea. Harry took a big sip and sighed at the soothing warmth.

“I'd have been there, had I known,” Draco informed him softly. “I'd still like to be there. Here. For... our son...”

Harry looked him over carefully before setting down his mug of tea. “I need to think about it, and I can't do that now because I'm too tired. Come back tomorrow morning.”

Draco nodded. The door opened to the house and Harry visibly braced himself to endure more crying. Golden silence met his ears.

“Oh God, he's dead!” Harry cried out in a whisper as he rushed out of the kitchen. He stopped abruptly when he saw Hermione patting a sound asleep infant in the carrier on her chest. “What did you do to him,” Harry shouted almost silently.

Hermione hummed and sort of quietly half sang the answer. “I simply walked and hummed and calmly talked like this.”

“I hate you!” Harry quietly declared. Then he kissed her on the cheek. “I'm going to bed!”

“Sleep well,” Hermione bade him with a warm smile.

“Wait,” Draco called out softly so that he didn't wake the baby. “Can I at least see him?”

Harry was already halfway up the stairs. He turned around and studied Draco again. A moment later, his eyes shifted to Hermione.

“I'll allow it, just...” Harry quickly pulled out his wand and cast a few spells over his son so that Draco could not leave with him. Hermione still could, but Draco couldn't. Of course, he didn't tell them that as if felt it would be insulting. “There. You can even hold him now, so long as you promise not to drop him.”

Draco snorted in amusement. “I assure you, I would rather eat a blast-ended skrewt than drop my son.”

Harry nodded in understanding, and then finished the trek to his bedroom. Meanwhile, Hermione opened the carrier on her chest so that she could give the baby to Draco. Draco took him with a soft exhalation of reverence.

“I can't believe he's real...” Draco whispered to himself.

“Come on, we might as well sit down and drink some tea,” Hermione stated, smiling at how adorable Draco looked. How open and soft he looked. She couldn't remember ever seeing him this way before.

Draco walked all around the kitchen with James, just staring at him and counting his fingers and toes. He traced every feature of the baby's face, and tried to memorize details like how much he weighed and what he smelled like. After a while, very hesitantly – as if he thought Harry would burst into the kitchen and hex him – he gave the baby a kiss on his cheek.

Draco looked up at Hermione, feeling a bit guilty for not asking for permission first, but she smiled at him. “Potter told me to come back tomorrow morning, but...”

Hermione frowned curiously. “But what?”

“But I don't want to put him down or leave him,” Draco admitted.

“I'll stay a bit longer, but I eventually have to go home, and I _can't_ not bring him with me,” Hermione warned.

“I understand,” Draco murmured, already staring at his son once more.

 

***

 

The next morning, Harry woke up to someone banging on the front door of his house. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt rested. Maybe not as well rested as he'd like, but rested enough to not complain about waking up.

He got up, still wearing exactly what he'd been wearing yesterday – boxers and a white muscle shirt, and a pair of mismatched socks. The pounding continued as he rushed to answer the door. To his surprise, it was Draco, but then he remembered that they had talked last night.

“Come in,” Harry invited, stepping back.

“I'm sorry I woke you,” Draco apologized as he stepped into the house. “I just couldn't wait any longer.”

They walked to the kitchen where Harry started some water boiling for tea. A moment later, a loud crack sounded and Ron appeared. The room was instantly filled with frantic crying.

“Oh good, you're awake!” Ron exclaimed in relief. “We wanted to let you sleep as long as possible, but we both have to get ready for work.”

Harry simply nodded as he took his son from his best friend.

“He slept on and off last night but wouldn't eat anything, so I expect he's hungry,” Ron said as he slung the bag full of baby things over Harry's free shoulder, and then pulled the bottle out of a side pocket. “This was just made a few minutes ago. Maybe he'll eat for you.”

“Thanks,” Harry murmured, already bouncing his son. He offered the bottle, and then thanked every God he knew that James latched on and drank greedily. Both Harry and Ron sighed in relief.

“I'm running late,” Ron stated just before he Disapparated.

Draco watched them quietly for a moment, taking the kettle off the stove when it started to whistle, and then pouring water into mugs to steep the tea. He noticed that James consumed the formula because he was obviously hungry, but that he also seemed to be in pain as he drank.

“I think I might know the problem,” Draco murmured softly, not wanting to upset either Harry or the baby.

“What problem?” Harry wondered curiously. He then set the baby bag on the table and took one of the mugs of tea to sip on.

“Why he cries so much,” Draco said, sipping on the other mug. “I told my mother everything I'd learned so far, and when I mentioned that the baby seems to cry non stop and that not even the Healers could figure out why, she told me that it's probably something that's a family trait of ours.”

“What sort of family trait?” Harry wondered, interested.

“It seems that unlike most aristocratic families, our family has never been able to feed our babies substitutes. Our babies are extremely finicky, and will only accept real human milk,” Draco explained.

Harry frowned. “But that's not possible in this case.”

“Actually it is, just not in the way you think,” Draco informed him. “I said real human milk, not milk produced only by the mother. That means that if we hired a wet nurse, or bought milk from a woman blessed with extra, he would probably be able to drink it without problem.”

Harry thought about this quietly, frowning slightly and biting his lip. “He does seem to get worse after eating. He'll calm down slightly after a couple hours, sleep for a few minutes, and then start fussing all over again.”

Harry pulled the bottled out of James' mouth, patted him until he burped, and then looked at Draco. “Will you hold him for a few minutes? And beware, he's going to cry.”

Draco nodded, set down his tea, and then held out his hands. The moment Harry passed the baby over, he ran back upstairs to his bedroom, grabbed his wand, cast a few cleaning spells over himself, and then got dressed. After that, he grabbed his cellphone and scrolled through his contact list as he returned downstairs.

“Hey Luna,” Harry greeted when she answered.

“Lovely to hear from you Harry,” Luna told him with genuine pleasure. “How are you doing now that you're home from the hospital?”

“Most of the time, I actually wish I was still in the hospital with all the Healers and Mediwitches to help me when I need it,” Harry replied honestly.

“I've been waiting for you to tell me that it's alright to come visit,” Luna informed him. “I'd be happy to babysit any time you need.”

“You're an Angel, Luna!” Harry complimented seriously. “Actually, I have a question for you. After you had your twins, you once told me that you produced enough milk to feed triplets. Do you still?”

Luna gave her soft and breathy equivalent of a squeal. “I've been _waiting_ for you to ask me this! Yes, I have plenty of milk frozen from the last two years, and now that the twins are starting to wean, I'll have even more to give.”

“Could you bring that over today?” Harry wondered.

“Yes, but it depends on if you want me to come alone, or if I can bring my twins,” Luna said.

“As much as I love your twins, I think I might be too stressed out for that much company at the moment,” Harry admitted.

“Okay, I'll have someone watch them and be over in about an hour,” Luna assured him.

“Thanks love!” Harry gushed before he hung up.

“Well that took a lot less effort than I thought it would,” Draco murmured. “I thought we'd have to put out ads and do interviews.”

“We?” Harry asked, feeling a little amused. “So you really plan to stick around?”

“Well, yes,” Draco stated honestly. “If you'll let me.”

Harry couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him. Then he chuckled wryly. “You know, shortly after I first found out that I was pregnant, I thought to myself: I defeated Voldemort, how hard could raising a child really be? I really thought I could do it all on my own, and I suppose that once he's no longer quite so fussy, I probably could. That said, I'm rather glad that I don't have to.”

Before Draco could think of anything to say, the silence was broken by a woman loudly singing a rather impertinent song.

♫ Fuck you (fuck you), Fuck you very very much, 'Cause we hate what you do, And we hate your whole crew, So please don't stay in touch! ♫

Harry grabbed his phone, struggled to unlock it since it always resisted working for him, and then tapped on it – which stopped the song. “Richard? … Er well, I'm – … Uh huh …” Harry sighed in defeat. “I suppose that I could meet with you this afternoon. … Okay, see you later!”

Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Harry set his phone down on the counter. The baby was still fussing as if hungry, but nothing too bad yet. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Harry snorted a laugh. “Hardly! And actually, I was trying to date a muggle woman before I found out that I was pregnant, and since there was no way that I could explain it to her, I had to stop seeing her.”

He'd had to mostly stop going to the club too since maintaining a glamour over his belly had been hard with the baby draining so much magic from his core. He'd only really gone when Richard had asked to discuss things with him. And maybe the baby had influenced him, or maybe the hangover was just that horrible, but Harry really hadn't had much for alcohol since conception either.

“Oh,” Draco murmured in disappointment as Harry started to cook breakfast. “Does that mean that what happened between us was a one time thing caused by the potion?”

Harry shook his head. “No. I'm bisexual, so I wasn't shocked or anything when I woke up and realized I'd had sex with a man. I was only shocked because I didn't remember anything.”

“That reminds me,” Draco said a bit tentatively. He carefully shifted the baby so that he could dig in his pocket and pull out a vial. “Here.”

Harry was mildly impressed. “The memory of that night?”

Draco nodded. “I figured that it wasn't fair that you couldn't remember it.”

“Thanks,” Harry responded with a small smile. He put it in his pocket to watch later.

Luna arrived just as they were finished eating breakfast. By this time, James had thrown an impressive screaming fit, calmed down a bit, and seemed to be wavering between fussing hungrily and half falling asleep. Luna hugged Harry, and then completely flustered Draco by enveloping both him and the baby in a hug.

“Oh Harry!” Luna cried out softly. “He's just beautiful! Hello Draco. I had no idea that you would be here.” 

She took the baby from Draco's arms without asking for permission. Then she looked him over with adoring eyes. “Oh... you're so sweet and precious. I miss when my babies were this small! And you're definitely hungry.”

She kissed the baby as she pulled off her shirt and flung it to the side. This made both men blush as they realized that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Draco looked away as Luna helped the baby latch onto a nipple, but Harry watched in fascination.

Luna looked up at Harry. “This is much easier than having him wait for us to thaw and warm up the milk I brought.” She pointed to a large box under stasis charms that she'd set on the table.”

Aside from not knowing what to do at first, James was now nursing slowly. It was almost as if he was thinking about what he was doing and trying to decide if he liked it. As time passed, he visibly calmed down.

Harry stroked the peach fuzz on his son's head. “It seems to be working.”

Luna nodded. “My own sons reacted to things I was eating, so I had to eliminate a lot of allergens from my diet. Chances are very good that whatever your son has been having trouble with, it's no longer in my milk.”

She pointed at the box again. “You should put six or so bags in the fridge to slowly thaw, and then the rest should go in your freezer, to be thawed as needed each day. I'll make sure to bring more over each week.”

Harry opened the box and gasped in shock. “There's so much!”

Luna nodded. “Start with the smaller bags since James is still a newborn with a tiny stomach. He'll need to eat small amounts frequently, but I'm sure your Healer already told you that.”

Luna hummed softly as she rocked the baby and watched Harry sort through the box. Just as Harry was finishing up sorting and storing two years worth of excess breast milk bags, Luna purred.

“Oh look, he's sleeping.”

Harry and Draco both crowded around her to get a good look at the baby who was sleeping peacefully for possibly the first time since he'd been born. Harry kissed Luna's cheek.

“You're a Godsend!” He informed her.

She grinned. “I know. Listen, why don't I come over everyday for lunch? I'll take care of the baby so that you can get something to eat and take a nap if you need to.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Harry stated happily.

“What about me?” Draco asked, sounding a bit jealous. “When do you want me to come over?”

Harry sent him a tiny smile. “Whenever you want, I guess.”

Luna looked at Harry in surprise, and then looked at Draco. “Oh...” she murmured in understanding. “I didn't even think to check my family tapestry to see if the baby would show up on it. I rather assumed that the other father was a muggle. Which is silly, now that I think about it. The non carrying father would've had to have a lot of magic too for the potion to work so well.”

Harry was surprised. “My Healer said that I had so much magic that I likely made up for it if the other father was a muggle. I also had no idea he was a wizard until Draco showed up and explained it to me.”

Luna smirked at Harry. “That's such a shame! If I found out that I didn't remember having sex with someone so sexy as Draco, I'd probably cry myself to sleep at night!”

Harry laughed but Draco looked confused. “Er, but...”

“The time I was in the dungeon, I know,” Luna stated with a serene smile. “Which reminds me, I'm still rather upset with you for not coming to my wedding.”

Draco shrugged and looked away. “I thought you'd sent the invitation to be polite and didn't actually want me there.”

Luna handed the sleeping baby to Harry and threw her arms around Draco to squeeze him tight. Draco blushed, held up his hands, and tried to step back.

“Luna! You're topless!” Draco protested.

“What does it matter?” Luna asked in mild confusion. “You decided against girls a long time ago. Thus you are not interested in anything I have.”

“Still!” Draco objected vaguely.

Luna laughed and let him go. Then she walked to where she had tossed her shirt and pulled it on. “Better?”

“Yes,” Draco stated in relief.

Harry was frowning ever so slightly. “I didn't realize that you two were friends.”

Luna smiled at Harry and placed a hand on his arm. “He took care of me as much as he could when I was being held captive. I would trust him with my life, and if that doesn't make us friends, then I don't know what does.”

“Oh...” Harry murmured, only mildly surprised. 

Draco was surprised too. “I didn't know you felt that way!”

“Which is probably why you only send polite responses to my owls,” Luna observed. She kissed Harry on the cheek. “But I should go for now. I promised my sitter that I wouldn't be long. I'll see you tomorrow.” She grinned over at Draco. “Both of you, I suspect.”

“Later!” Harry called after her as she walked away. She waved briefly just before she Disapparated.

An ominous jingle filled the momentary silence. Dun dun dun dun! Harry picked up his phone and checked it. It was a text from Hermione.  _How are things?_

Harry expertly tapped out a response.  _Pretty well, considering._

A moment later, a new text came in.  _That's good. I'll call or come over during my lunch break._

_Okay._ Harry set his phone back down on the counter.

“So... that's some sort of muggle communication device?” Draco asked. “I've seen muggles with their faces stuck in those things almost every time I venture out into muggle London.”

“Yeah,” Harry grunted in acknowledgment, now staring at his son in amazement. “I can't believe he's still sleeping!”

“Well, if we've managed to solve the problem, he might very well sleep a long time to make up for missing so much,” Draco reasoned.

“You're probably right,” Harry murmured, giving Draco a tiny smile of hope.

“Would you mind if we bring him to visit my parents this weekend?” Draco asked, taking care to sound extra polite so that he didn't upset Harry. He well knew that Lucius and Narcissa were probably the last people Harry wanted to see.

“Er...” Harry droned on. His first instinct was to shout: _hell no!_ But he also knew that this baby was part of their family too. “Well... Maybe not this weekend. Give me some time to get used to the idea, and then...” He shrugged.

Draco nodded, biting back an acerbic retort. He knew that he'd never convince Harry if he provoked an argument. Fortunately, he'd had a  _lot_ of practice controlling his emotions ever since the end of the war. Actually, during the war too.

Harry gave him a funny look. Draco bristled slightly. “What?”

Harry chuckled. “I'm just wondering how long before you blow up about something. We were never able to get along before.”

Draco shrugged. “Well, I suppose that this is important enough to me that I'll even bite my tongue if I have to.” He stroked the soft hair on the sleeping baby's head.

“You can hold him again for a while, if you want,” Harry offered.

Draco nodded, taking the baby with an expression of wonder. “I still can't believe we  _made_ this...” he whispered reverently.

Harry chuckled. “I know; I feel the same way.”

The day passed a lot more peacefully than any since Harry'd come home from the hospital. Not only did James not fuss quite so much, but he ate every two hours like he was supposed to, and then napped for a bit. Harry felt like he had a completely different baby!

With Draco holding and taking care of the baby, Harry even had time to make lunch. A real lunch! Featuring food that didn't come out of a can or a box!

As happened rather often, Ron and Hermione showed up during their lunch breaks. Hermione arrived first. She kissed Harry on the cheek.

“Oh good! I thought I was going to have to order take away to make sure that you got something to eat,” she stated as she sat at the table. “Good afternoon, Malfoy.”

“Granger,” he returned the pleasant greeting.

Ron arrived just then. “I brought chips!” He announced, holding up the greasy container of fried potatoes. “They're still warm.”

Considering that Harry had made a simple lunch of pan fried chicken served with veggies and a salad, he felt that chips were a welcome addition. Ron handed the container to Harry before kissing his wife and sitting down next to her. He looked over at Draco holding the baby for a moment before saying anything.

“Malfoy...” Ron said with only a hint of a displeased growl.

“Weasel,” Draco murmured in return, his tone a bit absent minded, which let them all know that he really wasn't paying attention at the moment. Since the baby was squirming and starting to fuss, it made sense that he was focused on his son.

Ron simply chuckled. He thought it might be a bit of fun if the two of them were allowed to heckle each other from time to time. But he'd already promised his wife that he'd make an effort to be nice for Harry's sake.

As they ate, Harry received a text from Richard.  _When are you coming over?_

Harry pursed his lips as he thought this over. “Hermione? I have to meet up with Richard today. Will you be able to watch James, or should I ask Molly?”

Draco sort of looked up at Harry with a glare, but he was trying not to be obvious about it.

Hermione bit her lip. “All the clients I had today were morning appointments, and I'm doing nothing but paperwork for the rest of the day. I should be able to bring him to work and watch him for a bit if you need me to.”

“Thanks!” Harry exclaimed, kissing her cheek. “I'll let Richard know that I can meet with him after lunch, and I'll do my best to be back in two hours or less.”

“I still say that Richard is a crazy bloke!” Ron stated with a chuckle. 

Harry laughed. “He is a bit crazy.” He sent a text to Richard.  _Be there in a little bit._

Ron shoved the last of his food in his mouth. Then he sighed in reluctance and frustration. “I wish my lunch break was a bit longer!” He kissed his wife. “See you when I get home tonight.”

“See you,” Hermione agreed. She finished eating a bit more slowly, but then stood up and took James from Draco. Harry slung the bag full of things she might need over her shoulder.

“We've figured out that he might have been reacting to the formula he was on, so Luna gave me a lot of milk for him. I've put a few bags in here, so you should have plenty, but if you happen to run out, there's more in my fridge,” Harry informed her.

Hermione looked like she wanted to smack herself on the forehead. “Why didn't I think of that?!” She then looked around. “Where's his carrier?”

Harry summoned it and handed it to her. She settled the baby – who was starting to fuss a bit louder now – in the carrier strapped to her chest, and then kissed Harry on the cheek. “I've got him, don't worry.”

“I know,” Harry murmured, and then watched them disappear.

“I could have watched him,” Draco grumbled unhappily.

Harry gave him a flat look.

“But... you don't trust me alone with him,” Draco accused, wondering if he should be surprised or hurt by the revelation.

“Not quite yet,” Harry admitted with an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

Draco sighed, knowing that had their situations been reversed, he might well feel the same. “Fine... Can I at least come with you?”

“Why would you want to?” Harry wondered, more curious than anything.

Draco shrugged. “No reason other than I have nothing else to do at the moment, and at least if I stick with you, I'll likely be able to see my son sooner than if I just came back later.”

“Ah,” Harry murmured in acceptance. “Fine. Give me your hand.”

Draco hesitated for only a second before holding out his hand. Harry took hold of it only long enough to Apparate them to an alley in London somewhere. Draco looked around as they walked out of the alley.

“This is...”

Harry nodded, knowing what Draco was referring to. They walked up to the entrance of the club. Even though the sign clearly said it was closed, the security guard at the entrance opened the door for them.

“Thanks,” Harry said. 

A moment later, Richard spotted him. “Harry! And what's this? It's that gorgeous posh bloke that comes in here from time to time!”

Harry chuckled as he noticed Draco blush slightly. “This is Draco Malfoy. He's... a friend of mine.”

Richard flicked a strand of his vibrantly fake pinkish red hair out of his face. His eyes – which were thickly lined with black eyeliner – twinkled merrily as he looked Draco over like a piece of meat. His hands were on his hips, which pulled his shimmering, see-through, mesh shirt tight across his fit chest and drew attention to his strange black pants. They were made out of denim and had a bunch of tiny silver zippers all over it, which matched his big black boots.

Liking what he saw, Richard forced his attention back to Harry. “Okay, so, picture this: Upstairs is a stage, and on that stage is a beautiful man wearing an elegant gown. He's singing and dancing and entertaining a crowd of admirers, and then...” he trailed off enticingly.

“Richard? There is no upstairs,” Harry pointed out.

Richard huffed in triumph. “Not yet, there isn't! But I'm telling you that our only real competition couldn't keep up, and so now they're out of business. If we strike while the iron is hot, we could probably triple our income!”

Harry stroked his chin and looked up as he thought about this. “Well... You haven't led me astray yet, so... Why not?”

“Yes!” Richard hissed happily, doing a celebratory dance for a moment before throwing his arms around Harry. “Just come to the office for a minute and sign the papers authorizing the upgrade.”

“Wait, are we going to have to close the club during construction?” Harry asked, because this seemed like a bad idea.

“Not at all,” Richard assured him as he dragged Harry toward the office. “It's adding a level, all the construction will be up there. Aside from – do you think we should install elevators or escalators?”

“Do we have room for escalators?” Harry asked in mild surprise, looking around the club. He noticed Draco following him quietly. 

Draco was also surprised, but for a very different reason. “You own this club?”

Harry shrugged. “Not really.”

Richard stopped, looking aghast. “What do you  _mean_ not really?! You definitely own this club!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “No, you own the club, I just fund it.”

Richard laughed and rolled  _his_ eyes. “Your name is on all the paperwork, I simply  _manage_ the club.”

“For now,” Harry admitted, and then changed the subject since they'd reached the office. “Where's the paperwork I need to sign?”

Richard walked him through it, which took about half an hour. As he did, he chattered on about new drinks he planned to put on the menu, and other ideas he had for entertainment on the main floor. Such as:

“We're licensed for nudity, so we may as well put it to use. I say we hold a wet shirt contest. The winner gets free drinks for the entire night,” Richard suggested. “Or a costume contest where the most scandalous costume that isn't outright nudity wins.”

Harry laughed. “Why not come up with a list of suggestions and have our partiers vote on the best one... each month.”

“That's a brilliant idea!” Richard proclaimed, rewarding Harry with a kiss on the cheek. “It gets them both involved in _and_ excited by the outcome!”

Harry simply shrugged and kept going through the paperwork.

“I don't know what job it is that you work so hard at, but you clearly are suited to this business,” Richard informed him with a proud grin. 

“I'm a lot like a police officer; I thought I told you that,” Harry stated in confusion. “And I'm more or less married to that job.”

Richard snorted. “Yes,  _that_ part you mentioned!” He shook his head wryly. “But I can't imagine why. Not only do you make a big income off the club, but you obviously didn't need money to begin with.”

“I am not the type to sit still,” Harry informed him, and then sighed. “But I suppose that I'll think it over now. I'm not sure I'm in the right field anymore.”

“Why not?” Richard wondered.

“It's a dangerous job sometimes, and I'm not so sure dangerous is a good idea,” Harry explained.

Richard snorted in amusement a couple of times until he was laughing outright. “You sound like my dad!”

Harry chuckled, signing the last page. “So, if we're done, I have to get back.” He stood up and held out his hand for Richard to shake.

Richard ignored this and hugged Harry, kissing his cheek again. “I expect to see you on Friday or Saturday night!”

“I think that can be arranged,” Harry agreed, returning the hug before pushing Richard away.

Draco watched them with a mildly murderous expression. It was surprising to him how much he disliked the way Richard fawned all over Harry. Harry gave Draco a look of confused curiosity, but Draco smoothed out his face and shook his head as if saying:  _Don't ask_ !

For the rest of the afternoon and evening, Draco held his son as much as possible. He was trying to prove to Harry that he really did want to be part of their lives. Harry watched him speculatively.

If Draco hadn't had magical proof that the baby was his too, Harry would have never believed it.  _Not_ because Draco was bad looking. In fact, he was rather hot! Harry could totally understand having sex with him.

It was just that they had such a long history of hating each other, followed by a few years of basically ignoring one another. Harry was surprised that they hadn't seen or talked to each other in about five years, and then the  _one_ night they met up by accident in a club, they apparently conceived a child. Talk about a one in a million chance!

Harry eventually kicked Draco out for the night because he was tired and wanted to go to bed.

“I plan to return tomorrow,” Draco informed him. “But it won't be until the afternoon.”

“Okay,” Harry accepted with a shrug.

“I'd love nothing more than to be here all day, but I also own a business, and I need to work tomorrow,” Draco elaborated even though Harry didn't ask.

“Oh?” Harry asked, intrigued. “What business do you own?”

“A high end shop for male fashion,” Draco replied. “I'm not a designer or a tailor, or anything like that. Much the same as you, I simply funded the store so that _I'd_ have easy access to the clothes I want to wear. That said, I have to do a lot more than just consult with my manager from time to time.”

Harry chuckled, tempted to explain once again that he didn't feel like he owned the club, he just funded it.

“Not that I'm complaining!” Draco assured him. “I really like my shop. It's rather soothing.”

“Well,” Harry began a bit awkwardly. “How about I make dinner for us tomorrow? I'm sure you'd like to watch James while I cook, and then you can tell me more about your shop.”

Draco gave him a tiny yet hopeful smile. “I'd like that.”

“Good,” Harry stated, waving goodbye as he carried the baby off to be changed.

When Harry went to bed that night, he spent a long time simply watching his son sleep next to him. One hand rested on James protectively while his other arm curled under his head. His thoughts were divided between Draco as a person, and their son's future. About how different it would be with both parents instead of one.

As a person who'd grown up with no parents, Harry honestly couldn't deny his son the opportunity to have both fathers in his life. Even if it meant doing whatever it took to get along with  _Malfoy..._

 

***

 

Harry stared at the vial in his hand. He finally had time to view the memory, but he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to see it. Seeing it wouldn't change anything.

Harry had long ago come to accept that he wouldn't ever remember that night. Seeing the memory wouldn't really help him remember it because what he'd actually be remembering would be watching the memory. It would be a bit like watching a movie. He could remember watching the movie, but would never remember  _making_ the movie.

Plus, it's not like he needed to see it to believe that Draco was the other father of his son. He knew that magical family tapestries couldn't lie about that. Also, he'd checked the Black family tapestry, following Narcissa (Black) Malfoy's name down past Draco to James Sirius Potter. Which meant that two separate tapestries listed the baby as belonging to Draco.

There really wasn't a need to confirm the conception. To be honest, Harry was more than a little afraid of what he might see. If the event was cold and to the point, he might think badly of himself. He might also think badly of Draco.

However,  _if_ – as he suspected – the sex was good, or better than good, then he didn't want to know and torment himself with possibilities. It was a one off, and it should probably remain a one off. Seeing the memory might make Harry dwell on it until he wanted it to be  _more_ than a one off. Which Draco would probably object to.

_Yep,_ Harry decided.  _I really don't need to see this memory._

And then he poured the vial into his pensieve and watched it swirl around. Taking a deep breath, he stuck his head into the water.

 

***

 

The club was happy and noisy and just plain beautiful! Harry was in the middle of a group of men between the ages of 18-27 who were teaching him to dance. There were two women in the group as well, and the dancing wasn't all that sophisticated. It was mainly shaking hips, grinding together, and groping. Lots and lots of groping!

The dancing and groping progressed to the point where they were all kissing one another. Some were quick kisses, but others were long and lingering. The lust in the group was running quite rampant.

Suddenly, Harry saw a head that practically glowed in the lighting of the club. The club was dim with many different colored lights roaming around. Some of those lights were black, and when they stopped on a particular platinum blond, the hair was like a beacon calling out to Harry.

Even as he stared at the back of that head, the group of dancers he was part of continued to grope and kiss him. A few were even trying to boldly get in his pants. It was at that point that Harry  _knew_ that he was going to get laid. The only questions were who and where.

He turned his head to lean into the kiss of the man who actually had his hand in Harry's pants, stroking his shaft. The kiss was hot and heavy, which made the bold groping all that much more promising. Suddenly, there was tapping on his left shoulder.

Harry broke off the kiss to look at who had tried to get his attention, but one of the women in the group took this as her cue to kiss him. Harry moaned happily, returning her kiss. The tap on his shoulder came again.

Harry managed to look at the person and was shocked to see Draco Malfoy. Draco.  _Malfoy!_ This just did not compute! Why the hell would he be in  _this_ club?

Harry was so thoroughly curious that he held up his hands in a signal meaning that he was done. One of the best parts of the club was that everyone understood and obeyed the rules. Which meant that any gesture of non consent was immediately respected. His posse stepped back to let him out.

Harry zipped up his pants as he followed Draco over to a slightly private corner. Draco then cast a silencing spell so that they could hear each other talk. As he did so, he frowned curiously.

“Potter... I must admit that I'm surprised to see you in a club like this,” Draco stated, still puzzled.

“The ssame goess for me,” Harry replied, his words slurring just a bit. He'd had more to drink by this point than he normally did. “Ssomething you want?”

Draco shrugged. “A drink maybe. Possibly a dance. I just... I guess I like seeing someone I know. At a club like this.”

“Ah,” Harry stated, wondering if that's why he'd been drawn to Draco as well. He then looked over at the bar and held up two fingers. The bartender nodded and quickly made two drinks, which a waitress was directed to bring them. 

Draco remembered to cancel the silencing spell just as the waitress neared the edge of it. She handed them their drinks, and then kissed Harry, slipping a piece of paper in his pocket. Harry returned her kiss, but then patted her on the rear with a light push, clearly telling her to go away.

Draco had a brow raised as he looked at Harry. “Still popular, I see. Only now you snog everyone.”

Harry shrugged. “I finally found a place where I feel like I belong. No one here wants to shag me because of who I am or what I've done. They just think I look good.”

“Ah,” Draco murmured as he sipped his drink. It was potent, so he was a bit surprised when Harry downed his in one long swallow, and then set the glass aside – not caring where.

“Drink up!” Harry insisted.

Since that was one of the reasons he was here, Draco did as suggested. The moment he was done, Harry took the glass from him, set it aside, and then pulled Draco onto the dance floor. Draco was a bit surprised that Harry didn't join up with a group.

Instead, they found a spot where they could dance together with a little space to move. Draco moaned softly when Harry put Draco's hands on his shoulders and his hands on Draco's hips. Their dancing was fun to begin with, but then Draco gasped in surprise when Harry eliminated all space between them.

Draco was busy trying to process the fact that their bodies were pressed together so intimately that they could actually get off if they kept dancing, when Harry shocked him again. Harry seized Draco's mouth possessively and refused to be separated for a long time. Draco half resisted at first, just because everything was happening so quickly, but then he surrendered completely.

Their dancing turned into a very passionate parody of sex. Draco felt like Harry was trying to access his soul via his mouth, and it made him weak in the knees. Their grinding was going to quickly result in a climax if Draco didn't at least attempt to take a breather.

“Wait,” he whispered. It was too soft for Harry to hear, but he guessed what was said anyway. Harry backed off just enough to look Draco in the eye.

Harry really liked the feel of Draco in his arms. This fact was almost as astonishing as the discovery of Draco in this club had been in the first place. Actually, if Harry thought about it at all, this second fact was far more astonishing than the first one.

“Come back to mine?” Harry invited with a hopeful smile.

“Er...” Draco hesitated. He thought about this carefully. He hadn't expected to pull the first night he visited this club, but it had been a while, and he was now very ready for sex. Plus... to be honest, it was a chance to have sex with Harry Potter! “Yes.”

Harry grinned triumphantly, took Draco by the hand, and then dragged him to the back exit into a dark and empty alley. The moment they were alone, Harry Disapparated them straight to his bedroom. Draco barely had time to notice this fact before Harry was all over him.

They tore at each other's clothes even as they snogged themselves breathless and tried to meld their bodies into one person. Most of their clothes went flying around the room, until they were both wearing nothing but boxers. Harry was so frickin' impatient at this point that he pushed his boxers to the floor and used his wand to lubricate and prepare himself. Then he pushed Draco's posh black silk boxers down and cast a lubrication spell on his shaft. His wand dropped to the floor with the boxers.

“Inside me, now!” Harry insisted between kisses.

“Fuck you're eager!” Draco swore, feeling both amused and a little impatient himself. He watched Harry turn around and brace his hands on the edge of the bed so that his arse was perfectly positioned in front of Draco.

Draco lined his shaft up, and then pushed into Harry. Both of them groaned happily. Harry pushed back toward Draco each time he thrust forward, and it really didn't take long before Draco was ready to pump Harry full.

Except that Harry growled in frustration. He pushed Draco away, forcing Draco to pull out for a moment. Then Harry climbed onto the bed and tugged Draco on top of him.

“Now,” Harry ordered, wrapping his legs around Draco's waist.

Draco complied with a smile. “What was wrong? I was almost there, and by the feel of you, so were you.”

Harry grinned. “We couldn't snog in that position.” To prove his point, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and sucked on his bottom lip.

Draco moaned, pausing in his thrusts to return the kiss. Then the urgency returned and they banged into each other as hard as possible. Harry loved every moment of it, his body shuddering as it drew closer to orgasm. Suddenly, he bit Draco's shoulder and groaned as his whole body shook.

Draco felt the hot stripes on his stomach as Harry got really tight around his shaft. This felt so good that his eyes crossed for a moment before he gripped Harry's hips and pounded as fast as he could. It only took about half a minute before Draco cried out and pumped Harry full.

Even though Draco wanted to withdraw and collapse next to Harry, he wouldn't let him. Harry held him tight and refused to let him move. Despite being lethargic from good sex, they couldn't seem to stop snogging.

Time passed, and Draco went limp, falling out of Harry. More time passed, and their hot kisses and roaming hands eventually provoked a response from both of them. This time, their sex was almost lazy. Afterwards, they both fell asleep, but Harry couldn't stay asleep. He woke Draco up for another round. Twice!

The moment Harry passed out from that session, Draco gathered up the belongings that he could find in the dark, and then Disapparated straight to his bedroom. As much as he would have loved to stay, he was afraid that Harry would keep waking him up for more sex until he was so exhausted that he died! Or at least that was how it felt to his extremely tired brain at the moment.

“I'll make it up to him later,” Draco murmured the promise as he crawled into bed, and then fell asleep.

Except that when he tried to talk to Harry, Harry shouted at him and told him to never come back. Confused, angry, and more than a little depressed, Draco decided to just push the memory out of his mind and try to forget it ever happened.

 


End file.
